


i need you like the blood in my veins

by camboy_hynjin (kinkyacewonho)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Bang Chan is Whipped, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Freckles, M/M, Morning After, Morning Cuddles, Naked Cuddling, Praise Kink, Sexual Content, and Felix's everything, he loves Felix's freckles, it's not like Explicit but it's definitely there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 06:18:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18493114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkyacewonho/pseuds/camboy_hynjin
Summary: The first thing he’s aware of is that his throat is killing him, and the second is that Felix is there, asleep in his bed, mere inches away from Chris’s face.





	i need you like the blood in my veins

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fic for this fandom so hopefully you all like it. Comments are much appreciated!

Chris opens his eyes not long after the first rays of sunlight peek through his blinds, feeling more well-rested than he has in a while. The first thing he’s aware of is that his throat is killing him, and the second is that Felix is there, asleep in his bed, mere inches away from Chris’s face.  

His blond hair is sticking up in places and partially stuck to his forehead, which Chris knows is from him tugging at the sweat-soaked strands the night before. His plush lips are parted, still kiss-swollen, and there’s drool leaking out of the corner of his mouth, but he’s beautiful. He always is, but all the more so like this, in these intimate moments that no one but Chris gets to see.  

His face is bare, and Chris can see each and every freckle dotted across his skin. He wants to touch them, kiss them—it’s a fantasy of his to have Felix laid out bare before him, so he can spend hours pressing his lips over every inch of his body, making sure not a single freckle on his skin is left un-kissed.

But not now. The day is young, it’s barely even started, but so is this new step in their relationship. They have time, and no shortage of it now that Felix has promised he’s not going anywhere, not this time.  

Chris settles for brushing his thumb over the dusting of freckles on Felix’s cheek, and his nose scrunches, stirring at the unexpected touch. It’s a few moments before his eyes open, unfocused, and Chris watches as they slowly zero in on what’s in front of him. He can tell the exact moment Felix gains clarity, because his eyes crinkle up, his smile brighter than sunbeams even when he’s barely awake. 

“Morning, love.” Chris shifts to cup his cheek, and Felix leans into it, eyes fluttering shut for one more moment. 

“Morning.” His voice, already impossibly deep, drops even lower when he first wakes up, and there’s a gravelly edge to it that Chris isn’t sure is just Felix in the morning, or Felix after sex.  

“God.” Chris’s vocal cords are aching, undoubtedly the effect of having his throat fucked hours earlier, his muscles stretched past their limits to accommodate Felix’s surprising girth. “You’re going to be the death of me.” 

Felix responds with something that Chris would call a giggle, if it didn’t reverberate so low in his chest. He tucks his head in the junction of Chris’s shoulder, where it meets his neck, and Chris can feel his laughter shaking against his skin. 

“I mean it.” Chris brushes some of his sweat-stuck hair back from his forehead so he can kiss him there. “How are you real? And how did I get lucky enough to call you mine?” 

“You’re so sappy.” Felix groans, but Chris can feel the warmth of his face going red from the compliment. He reaches for his hand, his small fingers perfectly filling in the gaps of Chris’s larger ones. 

“How else do you want me to express how utterly and completely whipped I am for you?” 

Felix lifts his head, tilting it up so their faces are a breath apart. “Like this,” he suggests, closing the distance and kissing him slow, their lips slotting together. Chris’s hands come up to rest on his hips, pulling their bodies flush, and Felix groans into his mouth and rolls his hips into him. Chris is made very aware of the fact that they’re both still naked when their bare cocks brush together. 

“Jesus,” Chris gasps, and Felix grins against his lips, cupping his face in his delicate hands. 

“I bet you dreamed about this,” he murmurs, nipping on his lower lip and tugging with his teeth. “Me, naked in your bed.” Chris doesn’t know where Felix learned to say these things, or if they come naturally, but he hates that he’s right. 

“Yeah,” he confesses, and Felix rolls his hips again, more purposefully, leaving Chris stuttering. “But not—not like this.” 

Felix pauses, pulling back enough so he can peer at him curiously, hands coming to rest on either side of Chris’s head. “Then how did you dream of me?” 

And Chris could lie. He could say the kind of stupid, carnal shit that people expect a guy his age to fantasize about. Felix might even be expecting it. But something about Felix makes him feel like his soul is flayed open, butterflied and bare. The truth spills from his lips, unbidden. 

“I think about kissing you everywhere.” His confession is rewarded with Felix flushing again, freckles standing out so prettily against his pink skin. “But mostly your freckles. I want to count them all and kiss them as I count them, and get so lost in kissing you that I lose count.” 

 _"Chris_." His tone is strained, and he brings a hand up to try and cover his face. Chris would worry that he said something wrong, but he can feel Felix swell against his thigh, and knows he likes the idea more than he wants to let on. 

“You like that,” Chris observes. Felix doesn’t respond, so Chris sits up so he can pull his hand away from his face, holding it in his again. 

“You don’t have to hide from me,” he assures him, kissing his cute nose. It makes Felix’s face crinkle up, just as he hoped it would. “I want to see you. All of you. Fuck, you were drooling this morning and I still thought you were sculpted out of marble.” 

Felix’s eyes widen comically, and he sounds horrified. “I was?” 

“Yes.” Chris chuckles, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips this time. “Don’t go getting embarrassed on me now. It was still perfect. You’re perfect.” 

“I’m  _not_ ,” Felix insists, and Chris takes note of the way his shoulders slope inward, like he wants to curl in on himself. He can only imagine what’s going on in Felix’s brain, but he has an idea: the anxieties and self-doubt, negative voices telling him he’s not good enough. Chris wants to kiss it better, but he knows it doesn’t work that way, so he cradles the side of Felix’s face, guiding him to look at him once more. 

“Okay. No one is perfect. But.” Felix looks at him then, and Chris’s insides are spilling out. “You. You make me feel so open and raw and exposed. When you look at me, it’s like I can’t hide anything from you. I don’t want to. I’m an open book, Felix, and I want you to read me.” 

“You’re not writing poetry, you can quit with the metaphors,” Felix chides, but the flash of his teeth and the sparkle in his eyes tell Chris he’s only ribbing because he knows Chris means it. He’s always been that way—too open, too honest—but Felix intensifies it to another level. 

“Do you want me to write you poetry?” Chris asks, and Felix lets out an honest-to-god _squeal_ , smacking him in the center of his chest. 

“Oh my god Chris, you can’t just _say_ things like that!” But he’s  _Chris_ , so he does. 

“Well obviously I have to write you some if you’re going to react like that.” Chris laughs, and Felix whines, slumping against his chest. 

“No fucking fair. I just wanted a lazy morning fuck, and now you’re saying all this sappy shit and making me  _feel things._ ” 

Chris combs his fingers through Felix’s hair, easing out some of the tangles he caused the night before. Felix hums in contentment, and Chris thinks it’s one of his favorite sounds. 

Everything about Felix is his favorite. 

“You know,” he suggests, “we could have a lazy morning fuck _while_ I say sappy shit that makes you feel things.” 

Felix lets out that throaty giggle again, aligning their bodies so he’s nearly straddling him. “Damn, you really know how to get a guy’s pants off.” 

“Yours are already off,” Chris points out, and Felix must get impatient because he slides his fingers in Chris’s hair and tugs him up towards him. 

“Damn it, Chris, shut up and kiss me!” 

And Chris does. On his mouth, and then everywhere but his mouth. By the time they’ve switched positions and Felix is writhing against the sheets beneath him and  _begging_ , Chris’s heart feels like it might burst. And when Felix hooks a leg around his waist, keeping him there as he arches his back and cries out the most beautiful bastardization of his name, Chris knows he will never love anything even one-twentieth as much as he loves Felix. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
